


Simple Destiny

by simplyravenclaw



Category: Alex Pettyfer - Fandom, Callan Mcauliffe - Fandom, I Am Number Four, The Power of Six
Genre: Acting, Actors, Alex - Freeform, Book - Freeform, Callan - Freeform, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Funny, Girl - Freeform, I am Number Four - Freeform, Love Story, Sequel, Underage Drinking, Underage Kissing, boy - Freeform, kiss, movie, teenage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyravenclaw/pseuds/simplyravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace has wanted to be an actor her entire life. She worked her ass off for it, and now she has moved into LA with her best friend. But her life of work and focus on career has built a wall around her that she sees crumbling down when she meets the guy of her dreams. <br/>Callan has grown up and moved out of home. He's on the radar and he's set himself up for life. But now he wants something more. <br/>When Grace moves in next door, he is completely perplexed by her. He finds himself constantly thinking about her and her mysterious way of life. When she turns up at the hotel for all of the cast members of 'The Power of Six', he knows that only destiny could have done it. <br/>In the limelight, they are the picture perfect couple. But it is what happens behind closed doors that makes them so special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Destiny

Callan  
The morning started like any other. 

I poured my cereal and ate it slowly, trying to pretend it was the breakfast my mum would cook me every Sunday that consisted of bacon and eggs and hashbrowns and anything else I desired. I slumped into the shower, hosed myself down so I would at least smell a bit better. I wasn’t planning on leaving the apartment block at all so I towel dried my hair and shook it so it was out of my eyes. I didn’t feel like wearing pants, but I put on a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knees and faded at the ankles and butt. They were my favourites and I refused to throw them out. Shirt was unnecessary though. It was summer in New York. 

I sat down and watched TV, ate chips, turned on my laptop, tried to find something interesting to do, watched more TV. I called my mum, talked to her for a bit, and turned on the computer again. I didn’t really know what to do. When I heard sounds of heavy lifting, distress, followed quickly by rapid laughter and the elevator closing, I sighed in relief. Something interesting was happening. Someone must be moving into the apartment next door. I grabbed the closest shirt I could find with Adventure Time insignia on it.  
I stood at the white door of my apartment and listened out. After a little while, there was the sound of the elevator opening. A voice emerged, clearly female, clearly Australian. 

“I just refuse to believe Frank Ocean is black,” she said.   
“Look at this picture. He is black,” another said, a higher voice. Still Australian.   
“You can’t believe everything you see on the internet, Juliet,” the first replied. I chuckled quietly at her.   
“You are impossible,” the second girl, named Juliet, replied.   
“Look, no black man’s name is Frank. It’s a fact. Do you see any black men named Percy? Or Callum? No, because they’re white people names,” the first said. I was almost splitting my sides trying not to burst out laughing. There was the sound of boxes being dropped and shuffling.   
“I’m sure there is a black Callum out there,” Juliet replied.   
“You’re a black Callum,” the first grumbled.   
“I am an Asian Juliet,” the voices started to fade.   
“Same thing,” the first girl laughed.

When there was silence and the elevator doors had closed, I slowly opened my door and peered out, expecting the place to be empty. It wasn’t.   
A girl was standing there, doing something with a box. I widened my eyes as she looked up and in a panic, I shut the door. There was silence for a second.   
“Am I really that hideous?” the girl laughed. I could tell from her voice that she was the first girl. I panicked again and burst out of the door clumsily.   
“What? No, not at all, sorry, I was just curious as to what was happening,” I said hurriedly. She stood up, about 6 books under one arm and a bag in another. She was just shorter than I was, standing at about 170cm. She had pale skin and small, thin lips. She was slim and her brunette hair rested on her… her chest. She looked about a year younger than me. She returned my curious glare.   
“I’m moving in next door,” she smiled crookedly.   
“Oh,” I pretended to be surprised.   
“Yeah,” she hopped onto her other foot awkwardly, “Hey, did you hear that conversation?”   
“Yeah,” I replied, biting my lower lip.   
“Um, well I promise I’m not a racist. I can prove it, I have an Asian friend,” I laughed heartily smiled at her.   
“I believe you,” I replied.   
“Okay cool,” she replied, breathing out heavily. She started to move away, gathering up another bag.   
“Can I help with anything?” I asked speedily before she could leave.   
She heaved a bag over her shoulder, “Well, that depends really.”   
“On?” I replied. She was keeping me on my toes.   
“If I let you into my apartment are you going to murder me?”   
“Probably not,” I shrugged, hoping her humour was light enough to handle that.   
“Good enough. If you want to take a few boxes you can,” she said, disappearing into the room. 

Grace   
There was no mistaking it. It was Callan Mcauliffe. 

I wouldn’t have been able to tell if I hadn’t spent a whole year obsessing over him. But I did, and I could tell. I could see it in his big brown eyes and his thin lips and the way he stared. I tried not to panic. I knew that moving to New York would inevitably result in some kind of celebrity spotting, but moving in next door to who was easily my biggest celebrity crush during mid-teens was not expected. I was scared he would be able to see it in my eyes. What I used to confess to my best friend, who was moving in with me. Things like ‘he makes me cry from my vagina, Juliet. Juliet, I want to climb him like a tree. Oh my god I’d Callan his Mcauliffe’. The last one didn’t even make sense. And here he was offering to help me move in. Fuck, Juliet was going to flip.   
“You can just keep moving boxes in if you want,” I said, trying to sound casual about it, “I’m gonna head down to the car and bring some more up.”   
I pretty much ran at the elevator as I saw it opening and tackled Juliet back into it.   
She groaned, “da fuck.”   
“You aren’t going to believe it, Juliet,”   
“What?”   
“We’re moving in next door to Callan, Juliet,” I breathed heavily, my hands slightly shaking.   
“We are?” she grinned widely, gripping the two boxes in her arms tighter.   
“Yep,” I almost screamed. The elevator opened and I ran with my arms up out, dancing and laughing and grinning. We were scarily excited and I was scared Juliet’s mouth would split from smiling as much as she was. We bent into the car and I picked up the last few boxes. The feeling was surreal, knowing that I was actually in LA.   
“You know, you would have met him soon anyway. I don’t know why you’re so excited,” Juliet said.   
“I know, but still. We’re living next to him. It makes catching him naked so much easier,” I said as we went up the elevator.   
“I suppose so,” she shrugged. I grinned and stepped out into the small room that was littered with boxes we had dumped by the door. Callan was just disappearing into the room and Juliet froze, turned to me and gave me a look of complete astonishment. 

“Oh my god. He’s in your apartment,” she whispered.   
“Please don’t pee yourself,” I laughed at her, “he’s just giving us a hand. And later on, I’ll try to give him a hand. A handjob, I mean,” I replied, shrugging. She hit me and giggled before carrying her boxes into the room. I loved to make sexual jokes to Juliet. I put my boxes down on the kitchen bench and opened them, starting to unpack things and putting them in respective places. I reached up to put some glasses in a cabinet and stepped back suddenly when I was finished, not expecting to bump straight into Callan. Except, I thought it was Juliet.   
“Jesus fucking christ, Juliet. I can’t live in these conditions,” I turned around and my eyes widened. Callan smiled.   
“Sorry,” he laughed a little bit at my outburst.   
“No, I’m sorry, I thought you were Juliet. Sorry,” I mumbled. Juliet, standing over in the corner like the little bitch she was, was pissing herself.   
I strolled out of the kitchen with my middle finger aimed at her. Callan followed me out.   
“I’m not a bitch all the time,” I said, picking up a bag full of cutlery. He picked up a box next to me.   
“Well that’s disappointing. I was enjoying it,” he said. My heart starting beating and I wanted to faint. Instead, I laughed and walked in, giving Juliet my ‘Holy shit Juliet what is even happening’ eyes. 

After a little while, we were pretty much moved in. Most things were unpacked, there were some scattered boxes. We’d have movers put all our furniture that we had bought previous to moving in the day before.   
Callan stood awkwardly in the kitchen while I opened the fridge.   
“JULIET!” I boomed. My actors training had taught me how to speak pretty goddamn loud.   
“Yes, dear?” she said patiently, sitting on the couch with her laptop on her legs.   
“There is no alcohol in the fridge. Where is the Jim Beam, Juliet? Juliet, there is no beer,” I sighed.   
“What about the lack of food?”   
I stood, staring into the fridge for a moment longer, “JULIET!”   
“Yes, dear?”   
“There is no food in the fridge,” I huffed.   
“I know, I’m gonna go shopping. Give me some money, do you want anything?”   
“I want Mars Bars,” I demanded, throwing my hand up in the air dramatically. Callan drew a sharp intake.   
“They don’t sell Mars Bars here,” he said. My jaw dropped.   
“No. No,” I gasped, “What about rainbow paddle pops?”   
“Nope,” he shook his head sympathetically. I shook my head and pretended to wipe away tears.   
“Juliet, we have to move back to Australia,” I said grimly.  
“I’ll start packing,” she said, but she didn’t move. She just held down Alt and reblogged more stuff. Callan laughed at our dramatics.   
“I’ll go get some money, Juliet,” she nodded from her position on the couch. I zipped around Callan, but I heard him following me up the hallway. I knelt down by my bag and dug around, looking for some cash. I had about $200 Australian dollars that I forgot to change. 

I stood up and he was leaning on the door.   
“Hey, adventure time,” I pointed at my own chest to signal that I was talking about his shirt, “cool.”   
He smiled, “I’m Callan, by the way.”   
“I know. When I was fifteen I thought you were the most attractive guy I’d ever seen in my entire life,” I smiled slyly.   
“Thought? Is that not the case anymore?” he looked at me, faking shock and offence.   
“Cocky, very nice,” I observed, biting my lip.   
“I never got your name,” he said after laughing.   
“I think if I guessed your name, you should guess mine. Until then, you can call me… Princess Bubblegum,” I said, referencing to Adventure time. He sighed.   
“Come on,” he poked me as I walked past.   
“Nope,” I refused stubbornly.   
“How am I supposed to work it out?” he huffed.   
I turned to him as Juliet headed up the hallway with her handbag on her arm.   
“You’ll find out soon enough. I have no doubt about it. I’ll tell you in a week, if you haven’t worked it out by then,” I smiled. I opened the door and Callan went out after Juliet.   
“Well I’m going to head home. Pleasure to meet you both,” he smiled. I bit my lip and Juliet prodded me subtly with her elbow, freaking out internally.   
“You too,” we both said a variation of that and he turned around.   
“I’m gonna pinch his butt,” Juliet leaned up to whisper in my ear. I looked at her, eyes wide.   
“Juliet!” I said, urging her under my breath not too. She shook her head and looked me straight in the eye.   
“Yolo,” she said before running after him and smacking his butt, quickly turning around and sprinting down the hallway to the elevator, cackling like a mad women. I just stood shocked as Callan whipped around with the most peculiar expression on his face. I had never seen Juliet do anything like that ever. We were best friends and she was scared to touch MY butt. We just stood, staring at each other until I finally broke the silence.   
“Well, I guess we solved the mystery of where all the alcohol went.” 

Chapter 2

Callan 

I considered going through my fridge and getting champagne for the mysterious no name girl, but I didn’t want to give her the impression that I wanted to get her drunk. But how would I find out what her name was? I thought about googling her, but I couldn’t because I knew nothing about her. I thought about stalking her and looking through her mail, but that would be weird. So I didn’t really know what else to do but leave it a week and see what happened. 

I saw her almost every day after that for four days. Every morning we would go down and check the mail, and we would stay down there and I would drill her with names.  
“What’s your name? Is it Bianca? Ashley? Sarah? Harriet?” I would ask and ask until she laughed and left. On the last day, I saw Juliet who smiled at my surprise. 

“Looking for her?” she asked.   
“Might be,” I replied shyly, pulling my mail out.   
“You’ll find her,” she shrugged and walked up the stairs instead of taking the elevator even though we lived on the 11th floor. I was puzzled by that. Completely puzzled. Then I was kind of scared to go into my apartment. It was pretty big and she was fairly small. She could fit anywhere. But I had to go and get ready. It was 9 and my flight was at 1.

I was flying out to Ohio to be on the set of The Power of Six, the I Am Number Four sequel. We were starting filming the very next day. I went upstairs and made sure to check most crevices for the girl, but she wasn’t some crazy stalker, it seemed. I sighed and picked up my two bags. I got a text from someone on the crew saying ‘Car is here.’   
I quickly knocked on Juliet and Princess Bubblegums door. Juliet opened it. I hid the disappointment that I felt that it wasn’t her, but I did like Juliet. 

“Hey, um, here’s some house warming champagne. I’m off to film for a few weeks. Um, say goodbye to Princess Bubblegum for me,” I smiled and Juliet took the sparkling.   
“Thank you, and I’ll, uh, yeah I’ll let her know you said goodbye,” there was a smirk on her lips. I kind of smiled awkwardly and bid her goodbye before meandering downstairs and into the car.

The flight was long and monotonous, wearing on for hours and hours. I watched movies and read books and watched more movies until it was over. When I landed in Ohio, there was already a car there and a sigh saying ‘Callan Mcauliffe’. I had my fingers crossed nobody would recognize my name. But there was one girl who was loitering around. She had buck teeth and acne, but seemed nice enough, so I posed for a quick photo and she was off, squealing. Girls are funny.   
The trip to where I was staying was short, and I got a text from Alex promptly. 

-I see your car. Drinks later? 

To which I replied 

-Sure, meet me in the lobby or something. 

I liked Alex a lot, he was funny and he was very British in a way I couldn’t explain. Dianna was nice but I didn’t see her a lot. I loved Teresa, she constantly made me laugh and she was kind of an older sister figure to me. At first, I was intimidated by every member of the cast. They had all been in blockbusters and they all had so much experience. I had a few things, but nothing as big as I Am Number Four was. Now, I just looked to them for guidance if I needed it, even though that was rare, and they were friends. I hadn’t seen them all for a while though, being the shut in I had turned into. 

In the lobby, the girl behind the counter with weary eyes and a thin patience while I tried to find my papers. She drummed her fingers on the counter and leaned on her hand, sighing verbally and aggressively. She took my things and looked over them, typing things into the computer in no hurry.   
“How will you be paying?” she asked. I raised an eyebrow.   
“I don’t… I don’t really know. Usually the production team works that stuff out…” I said. She took on a sudden look of shock.   
“Oh! You’re part of the cast! I didn’t even realise, my bad,” she said, quickly tapping away. She looked much less bored and had the glazed over eyes that star struck people often had. 

“Packed light?” a voice said from behind me. The accent was unmistakable and so was the gruff quality. Alex stood behind me with his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He was admiring the two small bags I had.   
“Yeah, you know me,” I chuckled, accepting my room key.   
“What’s your room number?” Alex asked as I gathered my belongings. We didn’t need an extravagant meet and greet with each other. We just fell back into our old relationship.   
“Um, it says…” I flipped it over a few times, clumsily trying to find the number, “Aha, it says 667.”   
“Yeah, that’s my floor, but we’re all scattered really. Really busy,” he said, taking one of my bags.   
“Thanks man,” I said, following him towards the extravagant elevator.   
We stepped in and he pressed the button, waved my key in front of a receiver and we felt the elevator start to push against the gravity that held us to the ground.  
“I’m glad you’re over 18 now so I don’t have to buy you drinks,” he said.   
“But the age limit is 21 in America,” I pointed out.   
“Fuck,” he sighed. I laughed. The elevator went ‘bing’ and he showed me to my room. It was one of those bloody card entries, so when I tapped it to the sensor, it didn’t respond. I tried it five million more times before Alex took over, got it after a few times and rolled his eyes at me.   
“Shut up,” I grumbled and rolled it. It was a nice room, with a lush kitchen and a leather couch, a huge TV with built in DVD player and one bedroom with an ensuite, as well as another bathroom. It all seemed a little bit much for a 19 year old. 

“Pretty great, huh,” Alex said, dumping my bags down. I huffed.   
“You think,” I was so tired from the flight and just wanted to hit the sack. Alex noticed.   
“I’ll leave you to it, we’re all going down to the restaurant at about 7:30, I’ll come and get you a bit before,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. I nodded and watched him go, before leaping into the softest bed I’d ever experience and falling into a deep sleep. 

When I woke up, the day had flown by and there was a coming into winter breeze flowing through the open window of my bedroom. It was almost 6:30, so I leapt into the shower and started wondering who I was going to see later, whether it was the whole cast or just some scattered people, or if it was a whole affair of producers, the director, the cameramen, the whole kit and caboodle. I wondered who was going to play all the new characters in the story. I was interested as to who was going to play Marina, and Ella. I hadn’t really heard much about it. I wanted it to be a surprise, and if I learnt everything there was to know about the new people in the cast before I met them, we would have nothing to talk about. I did like to talk about me, but other people’s stories were good too. 

When I got out of the shower, I hopped straight into something nice. Even if there wasn’t going to be the whole cast, I still wanted to impress. It was just a human instinct, to look good in the eyes of others.   
There was a knock on the door.   
“Come in,” I yelled, but Alex was already halfway down the hallway. I rolled my eyes.   
“Dress nice, all the cast that are here are coming. We’ve decided to go out somewhere nice, we’ve got reservations and everything,” he said, leaning in the kitchen. He was wearing a button up, pale blue long sleeve shirt and a blazer, but with jeans. Kind of casual, kind of not? I sighed and chucked on a nice jacket to compensate for my lack of nice clothing.   
“Have you met any of the new cast yet?” I asked him.   
“Yeah, most. Have you run into any?”   
“Nope,” he raised an eyebrow.   
“Not even the girl who’s playing Marina? Because I see her everywhere. She flits around a lot and I always see her looking in the most peculiar places. She’s hilarious though. About your age. I think you’ll,” he poked me, “like her verrrry much.”   
I rolled my eyes again, hoping I wasn’t going to go blind by excessive eye rolling. 

“I’ve already met a girl I’m interested in. Well, I met her a few days ago. I don’t know her name, but she knew me. She was supposed to tell me today, but she wasn’t there. Her roommate said that I’ll ‘find her’ or something.”   
“That sounds creepy,” Alex observed.   
“Eh, I thought so too, but she’s so quirky. I don’t know,” I shrugged.   
“Well I want you to keep your mind open,” Alex shrugged, ushering me out the door. I did as I was instructed and we walked downstairs. 

The restaurant was plush, with beige carpet and waiters in bowties. Something you would see in a movie. There weren’t many people except for everyone who was sitting at the huge table over by the band. There was a bar where I saw a couple of the cast already ordering drinks. Alex waved to someone and gestured that I follow him. I did and we wound up in the two seats at the end of the table with Teresa on Alex’s left and Kevin on my right. Light conversation started, menus were handed around and there were two seats left at the opposite side of the table. It was a long table, but the cast really wasn’t that big. I was introduced to the girl who was playing Ella. She was the girl who was in Kickass and stuff. Chloe Moretz. She was very pretty, but when Alex nudged me and winked, I shook my head. She was pretty, but I don’t know. I just couldn’t get Princess Bubblegum out of my head. 

After about ten or fifteen minutes, Alex turned to me impatiently.   
“Where’s Grace? I’m dying for you to meet her. I think you’ll forget about whoever ‘princess bubblepop’ or whatever her name is as soon as you see her. She is so your type,” I shrugged, doubting it. I’d given him a brief description of how I’d met her and how she told me to call her Princess Bubblegum in relation to Adventure Time. Alex just asked what Adventure Time was. Sigh.   
Alex perked up next to me, “There! There’s Dianna. I think she said that she was going to go with Grace.”   
I looked to where he was looking and I saw some people come into the room. There was an Asian group of about twenty, all with screaming children and distracted old people. I strained my eyes to see past them, but the blonde hair of Dianna and whoever was next to her got lost as they tried to fight their way through. I sighed and gave up and looked down at the menu. Alex was still looking around, trying to be mister match maker. I shook my head a little. I didn’t know how to explain to him that Princess Bubblegum just had something about her. Whether it was the mystery of her, or the way her brown hair turned golden in the light of the morning or her stubbornness.   
“Hey, guys,” there was a round of hellos and I finally looked up.   
And there she was.   
Grace Norris.   
Or, as I practically shouted in surprise across the table, “Princess Bubblegum?” 

Chapter 3

Grace 

I put on a black dress with lace that stretched from my cleavage to my neck. Make up was obviously necessary, but I didn’t actually own any. Well, not that I bought along. I had left my foundation at home by mistake and I usually just stuck my hand in Juliet’s makeup bag and pulled something out, hoping for the best and keeping my fingers crossed it isn’t a tampon or something. I didn’t want to put that shit on my face. There was a knock on the door as I was getting ready. I opened it to see Dianna Agron.   
No fucking way. 

“Hey, just thought I’d come and introduce myself,” she held out her hand and I shook it gratefully, trying to remember what I knew about the English language.   
“Hello,” shit that was so formal, loosen it up, “wassup,” I wanted to cry at what was coming out of my mouth, “I’m Grace.”   
“I’ve heard,” she smiled, “I’m Dianna.” I tried not to die. She was dressed in a white, long sleeve dress and I admired her courage to wear something that white to dinner. I was the messiest eater ever.   
“Nice to meet you. You look lovely,” I said, trying not to be intimidated.   
“Thank you, you do too,” she said happily.   
“Do you know where the place is?” I asked before she turned to go.   
“Yeah, do you wanna come with me? I’ve got a car,” she said. I nodded.   
“That’d be nice, if you don’t mind. I’ve just, well, I’ve been in America for a week and I don’t really know anything about anything,” I laughed, feeling a bit more at ease.   
“Aw, that’s so cute. Have you ever been to America before?” she asked. I invited her into the room and sat down by the mirror again, starting to pick earrings and tie my hair back.   
“I flew in for the auditions,” I said, “and then moved here a few days ago with my best friend.”   
“That’s sweet. Must be scary though. How long ago did you turn 21?” she asked.   
“I’m actually only 18,” I blushed at my own youth, “and in January.” 

We chatted casually like this for a little while. She stood up and did my hair, complimenting the colour and thickness. She said she loved my accent and it reminded her so much of Callan.   
“Have you met Callan yet?” she asked me. I nodded.   
“I actually moved in next door to him, completely by accident. But he doesn’t know my name, I wanted to surprise him,” I grinned cheekily. She laughed.   
“That’s going to be so good,” she said. I went deeper into the story, and the more I told her, the more she laughed. It was a little bit surreal, to have Dianna Agron standing behind me, laughing with me and doing my hair.   
She checked her phone which sat on the vanity next to mine.   
“We should head off. You look great,” she said, patting my head and collecting her things. Then something struck me.   
I had the best bragging rights ever right now, so I whipped out my phone and asked if I could take a picture with her.   
“You know, you don’t need to get pictures with famous people if you’re about to be famous yourself,” she said after we snapped the selfie. The thought was crazy, that I was going to be famous soon, but I ignored it.   
“It’s for my friend. She won’t believe it,” I said, sending the picture to Juliet, with a prompt reply. 

You’re actually a whore omg I’m so jealous holy shit 

We got in the car and Dianna drove us both to the restaurant. I didn’t have a clue how she got the car. Maybe she’d driven to Ohio. I had no idea, I just got in the passenger and let it all sink in. I wanted to cry. My hands started to feel fuzzy, followed by my stomach and then my heart. All of this was happening and I was finally going to properly introduce myself to Callan Mcauliffe. Finally. 

“Are you okay? You look a little pale,” she said when we got out of the car. I put on my leather jacket.   
“Just nervous is all,” I looked anxiously towards the entrance and I could see in the glass panelling the copious amount of people inside. I could only hope that they weren’t all there for mingling. I was so bad at mingling.   
“You’re going to be fine,” Dianna assured me as she slipped on her shoes from the driver’s side. They looked so expensive. She looked stunning. I was a potato next to her and suddenly I was rethinking my move of arriving with her.   
“Who is playing Ella?” I asked quietly, hoping for a name I wouldn’t recognize, just to relieve my fear of fainting from star stricken-ness.   
“Chloe Moretz,” Dianna said and I almost died.   
“Holy shit,” I muttered. She giggled.   
“Just keep your chin up and smile. We’re all friends here,” she said as I helped her over the gutter. The gesture was simple, but it gave me a feeling that we had been friends forever. It was so natural. I wanted to laugh out loud, cackle into the night air. It was my nervous reflex. That and throw up. It was so cold, so I was shivering, but I couldn’t tell if it was from fear of making a fool of myself or from the low temperature. I stopped outside the door and pulled myself together. Dianna seemed to understand, and let me gather my thoughts. 

Then I remembered who I was. I had no shame. I didn’t give a fuck if I fucked up this first impression, because I sure as hell would make it right during my second or third. Or twentieth. I would make it right because after all the wrongs I’ve done, I was so good at it. I would just make people laugh. I’d make a dirty joke or something. I’d be fine as long as I had my superb sense of humour under my belt and fake sense of superiority.   
There were fifty million people at the door. We had to tackle our way through. I kind of wanted to yell ‘people, do you see who I’m with?’ but I knew that would just make her uncomfortable. So I just stuck close and let the waiters usher everyone into a possession of sanity instead of the chaos that was ensuing. They swiftly apologised and directed us to the table that was full of 15 to 20 people. It was pretty full. At first, I didn’t see Callan, I was just focussed on getting to the two chairs at the end without tripping over. Then, while I was standing behind my chair and everyone was looking at us, I saw him with his head down. 

I wanted to yell ‘Jesus fucking Christ, Callan. Look up. It’s me. Princess Bubblegum.’ But I didn’t. I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. But before my instincts took over, he looked up and saw me. I’ve never in my life seen an expression so priceless. His eyes didn’t widen, in fact, they narrowed, as in he was having trouble seeing me properly. I bit my lip.   
“Princess Bubblegum?” he exclaimed, loud enough for everyone at the table to look at him with the most confused expression. Alex Pettyfer (holy shit Alex Pettyfer) looked from him to me and to him again.   
“That’s… Princess Bubblegum?” he asked.   
Callan just raised an eyebrow, his mouth set in a line.   
“Oh my god. That’s why you wouldn’t tell me. That’s why you said in a week,” he started putting things together in his head; you could see the puzzle pieces in his glorious brown eyes.   
I curtsied, “lovely to meet you all,” I said to everyone. They all introduced themselves as I sat down and I was overwhelmed, completely.   
I couldn’t talk to Callan from where I was, but I could sneak glances when I was sure he wasn’t looking at me. But it was kind of that awkward ping pong of glances. I would be talking to someone, or sipping my drink (which Dianna had ordered for me since I wasn’t legal in America) and I would feel someone’s eyes on me. My natural reflex was to whip my head around to see, and I would see Callan look away quickly. Just looking at him once got me addicted to admiring the curve of his chin, the way his jaw moved when he spoke, the way he looked down when he laughed. I would stare until he looked back at me, which meant I would look away. It was endless.

Dinner was served and I was on my third drink. I don’t know what it was, but it was strong and my head was spinning. It was about 11 and someone suggested we go to a club around the corner. A club in Ohio. Interesting. Everyone cheered for the idea until I brought up the subject of not being old enough. 

“Don’t be silly, we go in the back. They don’t check I.D.” Teresa said. I shrugged and looked at Callan who seemed to be having the same doubts as I was. He shrugged back at me and it was a mutual agreement to just go with it. My phone started ringing while someone was calling around to different clubs, trying to get us a free pass.   
“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” I said when I saw it was my Dad. I walked outside and slid the bar. He asked how I was, I told him, he worried over me some more, I told him I was fine, he asked me where I was, I told him, he asked me where I was heading after, I told him back to the hotel. I was protecting him. If he knew I was going to a club underage, all he would do would be freak out and threaten to fly over to America and pick me up.   
“I love you Dad, but it looks like everyone is getting up. I’m gonna go. Have a good day, I love you,” I said.   
“Okay darling. I love you too. Be safe,” I knew he didn’t believe my story. I walked inside and gathered my belongings, almost stumbling in my heels. I really had had a bit to drink. Oopsies.   
Someone caught me.   
“You right?” he was Australian, his voice deep. Callan. I looked up slowly into his eyes and I wanted to shake him off, to avoid the embarrassment. But it was something about how captivating he was. How just by looking into his chocolate eyes I could see everything he was feeling. He was so captivating. It was a slow motion movement where I straightened up my heel, supporting myself but letting him have his hand around my torso anyway, and we just kind of blinked at each other, like two species meeting for the first time.   
Then someone wolf whistled and snapped us out of it.   
“Awwwww,” Teresa wailed at us and I shook my head and smiled down at my bag, pretending to be very interested in its contents until I my red cheeks returned to their normal pale shade of ghost. I picked up my phone and walked out the door looking down at it, hearing muttered remarks as Callan walked next to me. 

“Everyone is in on some kind of matchmaking thing,” he whispered to me.   
“Why?”   
“Not a clue,” he said.   
“Hm,” I replied, turning off and going to Dianna’s car. I hopped in the front seat, and Dianna jumped in soon after.   
“So, Callan huh?” she suggested, nudging me slightly.   
“Ugh.” 

Callan

Holy fucking shit.   
Are you joking.   
It was her.   
It was her the whole time.   
She was about to be in a movie with me.   
And I had no idea.   
I turned to Alex.   
“That’s her,” I whispered in disbelief.   
“That’s a fucking classic,” he said. So British.

I shook my head a few times and watched her talking to people. I was fascinated by her. The way she played with the bracelet on her wrist, the way she chucked her head back when she laughed, letting her voice flying. When she made someone else laugh, there was always a hint of a smile of her lips. Little, but there. Definitely there, like she was satisfied, that she knew she’d done a good job. We kept catching each other staring. We were playing cat and mouse and all I wanted was to talk to her. Everyone was in on the joke, the match making play. They all kept hinting, asking if I had a girlfriend really loudly. I just kept saying no and changing the conversation or trying not to talk at all.   
When the dinner was over and we had all agreed to go to the club since no one needed to be on set early, and I was a little bit tipsy. And so was Grace, I saw, as she almost fell over on her way to her bag. I caught her though. I touched her. She looked at me with relief in her eyes, but there was a sparkle there. I couldn’t see what she was thinking; only that she was curious. She was so closed off, like a wall. It was a wall that I wanted to knock down. Or maybe she just felt nothing. 

The club was pretty quiet. Well, quiet as clubs go. I hadn’t been to many, but it was pretty easy to get a drink. They didn’t check for I.D. since they assumed if we were in, we were all good. I didn’t really mind at all. I sat at the bar and tried to think about all the alcoholic beverages I knew the names of. It was an embarrassingly short list. I didn’t want to order a martini, or a margerita, or a cosmopolitan. They were all drinks I’d learned from Sex and The City, which my mum would watch all the time. I didn’t really want to drink if I wasn’t drinking with Grace. I turned around and she was over with Alex and they were talk casually. I wanted to know what about. Were they hitting it off? Was he asking her to dance? Complimenting her? I wanted to know it all, but I couldn’t hear it over the thundering music and the chatty girls next to me. I could hear them fine. I turned around to the bar again and tried to look less like a depressed drunk. 

“Oh my god, is that Callan Mcauliffe? Is Alex Pettyfer here as well?” they were whispering. I rolled my eyes down at the bench. When I looked up, one of the girls was standing next to me.   
“Hi,” she said, twirling her blonde hair in her hands. She had so much make up on. So much.   
“Hello,” I replied. She giggled.   
“Do you want to buy me a drink?” she asked after a 20 second pause. I sighed and tried to remember if Grace was wearing any make up. I tried to remember her eyes. I tried to signal to her with my mind to come and rescue me.   
She did.   
“Jake? Oh it’s so good to see you! My god, it’s been such a long time. Remember me? From when you lived in Mississippi?” she had an American accent on, almost identical to that of Dianna’s or Kevin’s. My saviour. The blonde girl looked confused as Grace rubbed at my arm and chatted excitedly with me. She flicked her hair and made an obnoxious snort, getting off the seat she had taken up and gone back to her other girly friends. Grace sat down in her spot and waved the bar tender over. 

“Shots, please,” she asked. He went to ask her more questions but she waved him off. Her voice was back to normal.   
“Thank you so much,” I breathed to her. She grinned.   
“All good,” she said simply, sliding one of the little shot glasses over. I was drinking with Grace now. That’s what I wanted to do. She counted to three and we downed them, and I signalled for another round as the liquid burned down my throat.   
“I should warn you, I’m lightweight,” she laughed, shaking her head as if to shake away the taste. I laughed. We took the second round of shots and the bartender had already poured us a third.   
“Bit of a pussy, huh?” I said, she counted to three, we took the third shot and she shook her whole body this time, her boobs bouncing in the flashing lights. My reactions were too slow by that point to look away in time. She looked at me, lifted my chin with her forefinger and got so close to my face I could have kissed her if I had the guts.   
“I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be,” she whispered with such a sexy tone of voice. She danced out onto the floor and found Chloe and some random people and started dancing to her hearts content. She moved so smoothly, even though she was drunk off her face. I called the bartender over, asked for something with a lot of vodka in it, downed it, and followed her out there. 

It’s funny how many colours there can be in just one. Like, when there is brown, there can be beige or deep brown, or golden brown. There are so many colours that can spring from just one colour. And I swear, that night, under the strobe lights, she had every one of those colours in her eyes. And her skin was lit up by the colours that were swinging around the room and she was vibrant under the lights. She shone and she glowed and she was free. I could see it in her. All of her inhibitions were gone as she twirled and grinded and fell into the mass of bodies. I was so captivated by her beauty that my dancing was pathetic. She moved her lips to the lyrics and it was like she was singing it all, like it was all coming from her. All the happiness in the room seemed to be centred around her magnificence. All I wanted was to take her in my arms and become one with her. I didn’t know if that was the alcohol in my body or because of the way that she didn’t have to say anything to be inviting.

Her hair was out now and she started grinding against me. In the mass of hot bodies, hers exerted the most heat and it was almost too much for me to bear. I stood almost completely still, she looked confused for a second at my lack of reaction and shrugged, turning around and wrapping her fingers in Alex’s hair. They started pulsing together, and somehow they kind of turned into one body as a result of my drunk and blurred vision. They were moving in sweet, sexy harmony, all because I couldn’t man up. 

Um, how about no.

I was not thinking straight at all. I was 100% wasted, completely off my face, but I felt so light and so free. And so, so jealous. It was my driving force to grab her arm and pull her off the dance floor. 

“Callaaaaaan, whut are you doon?” she was so out of it, but she was so hot. I kept pulling her along. She started resisting me.   
“Princess Bub- I mean Grace, we’re gonna go up, up there,” I slurred and pointed to the stage. She grinned.   
“Oh, well okay then,” she continued to let me pull her along but I could see Dianna watching us, making sure we weren’t going to get into trouble. She started following us when she saw me turn into a doorway, so I signalled to her that we were going up there. I think she shook her head. I didn’t care. I just wanted people to see that I wanted her and that she was mine. We stumbled up the stairs. I fell backwards and she stopped, giggled at me and helped me up, almost falling herself in the process.   
“Clumsy, clumsy!” she giggled and hiccupped. I just wanted to kiss her face so hard. I pulled her up onto stage and the blinding lights were so overwhelming that we both kind of stood there for a moment, trying to gather ourselves. Then I saw a security guard coming towards the stage.   
So I turned to the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen and took in every part of her essence. Her confidence, the shape of her body, her smile, her laugh, her eyes, her slightly crooked teeth, and I felt no pain, or any effects of the alcohol. It was like I’d sobered up for this one moment in my life. And I brought her so close to me and I kissed her. She tasted so sweet, like the blood orange vodka she had been drinking. She wrapped her arms around me and the explosion of passion that came with her reactions to my body was enough to make the moment last forever, although it lasted so little time.   
It was enough time, however, for me to realise that I wanted desperately to fall in love with this girl.

Chapter 4

Grace

The next thing I remember, I was waking up in my bed at the hotel with a pounding headache and this continuous banging noise, like someone was rapping on the door.   
Wait, someone was at the door.   
“Usgghghsdj, come in,” I groaned.   
“I can’t, you have to let me in,” whoever it was on the other side said. I groaned.   
“Does that mean I have to leave my bed,” I asked whoever it was. I was too tired and too hungover to be able to tell whose voice it was.   
“Yes, it does,” they said. I flung my arm out and shoved the covers off me. When I say I rolled out of bed, I’m not exaggerating. I rolled out, onto my hands and knees and crawled to the door. I could feel the shots and the vodka threatening to come up my oesophagus. I reached up and turned the door handle, still refusing to stand up, fearing that I would fall from dizziness. Callan was at the door. Fuck. I looked awful. But I felt a bit better when I saw he did as well. I stopped trying to make myself look presentable and just let myself fall sideways into the fetal position. He smiled sympathetically down at me. 

“I drank too much,” I moaned childishly. He laughed.   
“You think?” he closed the door behind him.   
“You aren’t going to make me get up are you?” I groaned. He didn’t. Instead, he got on the ground with me and I could tell that that is what he’d wanted to do all morning. Just die like I was. He handed me a bottle of green stuff.   
“Drink this. Teresa gave it to me and it’s helping,” he took a gulp of his and put his head back onto the plush cream carpet. We lay there for a few minutes, drinking our weird green juices and just breathing in each others presence. I started to try and recall things from the night before. I remember starting to drink; I remember talking to Alex about Callan and him telling me that he had been talking about me, I remember saving him from a bimbo and then I remember taking shots with him. And my memories went weird from there. There was dancing but there was something else that nagged at the corner of my mind. Something big. I wondered how long Callan had stayed around. 

“Do you remember much from last night?” I asked him. He turned to me.   
“I remember bits and pieces, you?” he looked incredibly curious, his eyes slightly narrowed and his brow furrowed in slight worry.   
“Not much. The last thing I remember is drinking with you and going out to dance. I remember dancing with Alex a bit. There was something after that,” I frowned, “what was it?”   
He looked so disappointed, “you really don’t remember?” 

I panicked a little bit, feeling my heart pounding, “Um, no. Well I know there was something and when I think about it, I get that heart fluttery thing. The same feeling you get when you remember something nice. I just don’t remember what was so nice,” he kind of smiled, “I’m sure I will.”   
“I have something that will help you,” he said. I was looking up at the ceiling but there was no mistaking the lustful tone in his voice. I chose to ignore it.   
“Pictures? Oh please tell me I didn’t take my clothes off,” I grumbled. He laughed and turned onto his side so he was facing me directly. It took me a second before I realised what was about to happen. His face was so close to mine, his nose brushed up against mine. 

“Callan…” I whispered. What was he doing. We couldn’t kiss. I probably had ‘after clubbing morning breath’. He stopped his pursuit of my lips and opened his eyes, looking wary.   
“Oh, sorry. I just, I thought,” he started sitting up. No, shit, no. As if I didn’t want to kiss Callan Mcauliffe. Something told me that I already had. That’s when I had the flashback. The moment where I looked into his eyes and I saw every emotion he’d felt since we first met. The moment where I felt the drawbridge to my impenetrable castle of locked away emotions came down, just to let him in for a second. The second before the kiss was incredible that no matter how totally wasted I was, I could still remember it as if I were sober at the time. He looked so brilliant, like someone from a story book come to life under the flickering strobe. And then we kissed.   
But by the time I recalled it all, he’d already left. 

“Shit,” I stood up, my head rushing. I had to catch up to him, but I couldn’t see straight. I was so hungover. I sat down and heard him walking away, down the hallway. I wanted to go after him, to tell him I remember it all, but I couldn’t stand up without the world spinning out. I was so tired. I didn’t even know what time it was. I just thanked my stars I didn’t start filming until the next day. 

“Callan,” I tried calling out but it was far too late and I almost laughed at my pathetic efforts. I took a solid swig of the green stuff and winced. Ew. I stood up slowly, stretched my arms and legs and slowly moved to the door, took a hold of the handle and turned it.   
When I got into the hallway, I realised that I had no idea where he was. Now that I was standing up, the dizzy spells had gone and I could walk straight. I knew I looked like death, but I couldn’t care less. I ran to the elevator, really not feeling awake enough to run down the stairs. Lazy, even when chasing Callan Mcauliffe, my number one teenage crush. I sighed as I stepped in. I was 18, but I hadn’t grown up. There was a man in a blue suit standing there. His eyes widened as I jumped in next to him. I reckon he could smell the alcohol and left over sweat on me. I could have showered at least. No, Callan was more important. 

I pretty much rolled out of the elevator and almost tripped.   
“Sorry,” I apologised to the man for some reason and he just widened his further and shook his head. I was too distracted to notice why he was looking at me with such shock. I was focussed completely on trying to work out which room was Callan’s or even Alex’s. I looked frantically around. The floor looked identical to mine. Cream carpet, gold door frames and silver numbers on each of the doors. I had two choices. I could knock on every door and scream ‘Callan! LOVE MEEEEE?” or I could call Alex and ask him.   
As much as I wanted to do the former, I chose the latter and quickly zipped through my contacts to where I had saved Alex’s number the night before.   
“Grace?” I heard the voice through the receiver. There were the sounds of a set around him. I completely forgot he was filming today.   
“Sorry to interrupt, but which room is Callan’s,” I quizzed him.   
He made an ‘Ooo’ sound and I heard him talking to someone off the phone, “She’s asking where Callan’s room is,” he laughed and I groaned.   
“Shut up Alex and just tell me,” I demanded.   
“Planning on snogging some more?” he chuckled, “he’s in 667.”   
“Thank you,” I huffed and hung up abruptly, not saying goodbye even though I hated it when people did that to me. It was like, wow, okay, fine, goodbye bitch. I scanned the rows of doors as I trotted by at an alarming speed, barefoot. I didn’t even know what I was wearing. I probably looked like some crazed fan of Callan’s. Or a hobo. Or both. Both is good. 

I found the door and knocked wildly. I didn’t really know what I was going to do when he opened the door. If he opened the door. I didn’t know if I would have the ability to do anything. It was just hitting me that last night, I had actually made out with Callan Mcauliffe. My life was pretty much completed. I waited for him to open the door. I knocked some more.   
“Yeah, yeah, coming,” I heard him say faintly. I could hear his feet shuffling on the carpet. The door unlocked and I was so happy to see his beautiful face.   
“Grace?” he seemed really surprised that I was there. I didn’t really care though. He had no reason to be surprised at that. No, I would give him something to be surprised about.   
I pulled his shoulders towards me wrapped my arms around his neck. Then I kissed him and let every wish and prayer that one day I would be able to do this from when I was 16 flow into it. I made his lips move like I was convincing his heart to love me. And when I finally pulled away, he had this look of fright on his face.   
“Okay, Grace, that was great, but I need you to come inside, right now,” he said, trying to usher me in.   
“Great? Is that all you have to say?” I was so insulted. Was I not a good enough kisser? Was I not spontaneous enough? Ugh, what more did I have to do?   
“Grace, please look at what you’re wearing,” Callan urged. I furrowed my brow in confusion and looked down. What I saw was the lacy white bra and black bonds underwear I had been wearing under my dress last night. I was practically naked. It explained the looks I’d gotten from the guy in the elevator, and the shocked expression Callan had first given me when he opened his door.   
“Ah, fuck.” 

Chapter 5

Callan

I was over the moon, to say the slightest. She wanted me back. She ran out of her room, almost naked and completely hung over just so that she could show me that. I hurried her into my room and she seemed to already know her way around. I figured it was because her room was identical to mine, or maybe she had been sneaking in while I was sleeping. Regardless, she hurried into the closet and pulled out the adventure time shirt I had been wearing when I first met her. She smiled at the memory, as did I, and she slipped it on. It just reached her midthigh. 

“This is long enough, right? Do I look like a whore?” she put her hand on her hip and posed.   
“Nope,” I shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed so she wouldn’t see what was… arising. She whipped her leg to the left, revealing the inner of her thigh.   
“What about now,” she purred. I shook my head.   
“Almost,” I laughed. She made a thoughtful sound.   
“What about this,” she ran at me and leaps onto the bed in a playful way, straddling my legs. I’m glad I’m wearing tight jeans.   
“If I say no, will you kiss me?” I asked in a whisper, trying to be sexy.   
“I’m going to kiss you either way,” she shrugged, the T-shirt that was already too big for her slipping off her shoulder to reveal a defined collarbone.   
“Then yes,” I grinned. She bit her lip and then crushed both of them into mine. It was quick and sweet and I wasn’t satisfied when she rolled off me and laid flat on the bed, the shirt riding up to reveal the tops of her thighs. Shiver.   
“When do you start filming?” she queried.   
“Tonight, 7,” I sighed, falling onto my back next to her, staring at the ceiling so I wasn’t staring at her legs.   
“That’s tough,” she huffed.   
“Eh, better than Alex who had to start at like 7,” I shrugged. I can admit that I was incredibly excited to get behind the camera again. I already had all of my lines down and in every spare second I was going through them. Pre film jitters were taking over, but the presence of Grace was calming.   
“What about you?” I asked.   
“Tomorrow, 6:30,” she groaned.   
“That isn’t too bad,” I turned onto my side to see her playing with chocolate hair above her face, concentrating on finding split ends.   
“In the morning, Callan,” she crossed her eyes and squirmed in protest, “I hate mornings.” She was the cutest person I had ever seen. She sat up and tucked her knees underneath her. We were so natural around each other for a reason I don’t understand. We just had a simple coexistence.   
“You’ll be okay,” I said. A thought occurred to me then, while I was sitting there looking at her in a baggy t-shirt, hung over but still so beautiful. I’d just kissed a girl I’d known for barely a week. Twice. Shouldn’t I take her out on a date or something? 

“What’s the time?” I asked her. She had put her phone down on my bedside table. She picked it up and turned it on and I saw her background was of her and a boy. I was annoyingly jealous. “2,” she did a double take, “2! How long was I asleep for?”   
“Well we only got home at like 4 I think, so really not that long,” she shook her head at herself.   
“I’m not even a party animal.”   
“I beg to differ. You were all grinding and you and Alex were all over each other for a while there,” I winced at the memory. Her eyes started flickering like she was remembering something.   
“We were? Juliet is going to be so jealous,” she laughed menacingly. I rolled my eyes as she started composing a text to her roommate. I wondered how Juliet was doing in big old LA by herself. She was so little.   
“Anyway, I was thinking, we should go out and get lunch or something. Just so I can at least say that I’ve taken you out on a date,” I said tentatively. She frowned and turned to me, sidling up to me so that our torso’s were pressed together.   
“Do you feel bad about kissing a stranger,” she purred, grabbing a handful of my shirt and kissing me gently, contradicting her vicious hold of me. I relaxed into her touch and put my hand on her hip, letting it rest in the curve of her body. Her lips tasted delicious, a mixture of guava and honey. She pulled away, again, before I was satisfied.   
“Well, okay then,” she resigned, jumping up from the bed and going to do the door.   
“You still aren’t wearing pants,” I grinned at her. She looked unbelievably sexy in just my shirt.   
“Then I guess I’ll have to sprint,” she had the cheekiest look in her eyes. I rolled off the bed and stood behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist before she could leave.   
“But I don’t want anyone else to see you looking this good. They might steal you from me,” I whispered into her ear, feeling goose bumps rise on her neck when I kissed it. 

“I’m sorry but on the way down here, there was a very shocked business man who saw me in even less clothing in the elevator,” she giggled.   
“Are you having an affair!” I acted outraged, storming across the room.   
“Oh, would I ever do that to you?” she put on a high pitched voice with an American accent.   
“I trusted you, but you’ve been sneaking around with a business man in elevators! How many times, Nancy?” I put on an American accent too. I had no idea what was going on. She pranced over to me, fluttering her hands.   
“William, I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you,” she ran her hands through my hair and tried to get me to look her in the eyes.   
“How many times!” I grabbed her wrist, softly but faking aggressiveness. She pouted her bottom lip.   
“Only twice,” she whimpered. She looked up at me with the brownest, biggest puppy dog eyes and I knew if we were really Nancy and William, our weird and random alter ego’s, then I would only be able to forgive her. I leaned down and took her chin in my hands and kissed her. She smiled when I pulled away and looked hungry for more. Well that was her problem because all she did was tease me. It was my turn. I grinned at her and admired the way her nose curved and how round her eyes were. I admired the way she bit her lip and how she lowered her brow in suspicion. 

“Ready to go,” I asked her, fighting every instinct my testosterone gave me to scoop her up and leap onto the bed with her. She tilted her chin to the side.   
“Where are we going to go?” she asked. I could feel her hot breath on me because we were so close.   
I shrugged, “I don’t know yet. A café or something,” I said. She nodded in agreement and turned around.   
“Do you want some pants or something?” I hesitated, not really wanting her to run around with only my shirt on. People would talk.   
“Nah no one is going to be around,” she shrugged at me and left the room in a flutter. 

Grace

It was a little bit unbelievable that I was going on a date with Callan Mcauliffe. I wasn’t really sure why that was the unbelievable part of it. What I shouldn’t have been able to believe was probably the fact that I moved next door to him when I moved to LA for my first real acting job and then made out with him a week later, completely drunk. That it was Callan Mcauliffe, the reason that I had such a strong motivation to be an actress. 

I emerged into the hallway and waited for Callan to follow me. He came out and looked at me, obviously doubtful.   
“Oh stop it, this shirt is so long enough to be a dress anyway,” I rolled my eyes at his wary look. He smiled and I walked ahead of him, making sure to use my hips a little more. Couldn’t hurt to flaunt it a bit, right? I smirked at myself, at the silliness of what I was doing. I reached the elevator and saw it was at the ground floor. I pressed the button, making it go red, and Callan wrapped his hands around me. I could feel him trying to shield me from anyone who could be behind the doors so they wouldn’t see anything.   
“I can see what you’re trying to do,” I wriggled around so that I was facing him. I was relaxed into his shape, sitting on my hip with my arms around his neck. He had his hands at the small of my back, holding the shirt there.   
“I just don’t want anyone to try and steal you,” he said, kissing me on the nose. I felt the warmth of his neck on the palm of my hand and stared up at him. His big brown eyes were like an echoing room, where every bit of adoration I looked at him with, he returned. He looked so caring, so gentle and I knew that if I was to have some kind of heart attack, he would carry me to the hospital on his back at the speed of light just to keep me alive. I felt safe with him. Safe was a feeling I wasn’t very aquainted with when it came in the form of a person. Sure, I had grown up in a safe neighbourhood I guess and my parents had always kept me safe, but I had been hurt too many times to look at someone and think ‘they’re going to protect me from pain’. But there was something about the way Callan looked at me that said that he would. 

The elevator opened, but we were so wrapped up in each other that it took us a second to react. But when we did, we saw a smug looking Alex. He looked weary and I didn’t blame him. He’d been out all night and started so early in the morning. They must have let him go for a few hours, to film some scenery stuff. He would have to go back later. I jumped away from Callan, feeling sudden shame. Callan looked the same as I did. Kind of like a puppy caught stealing from the bin.   
“Well, well, well,” he leaned against the opening of the elevator to prevent it from closing.   
“It’s not what it looks like,” Callan said, glancing at me and at my very exposed legs. I acted natural, while trying to hold down my shirt and somehow make it look like I was meant to not be wearing any pants.   
“Is it not? Because it looks to me like our little love birds are sneaking about together and you,” he waved his finger at me, “seemed to have lost your pants along the way.”   
“I could try to explain it, but you wouldn’t believe me,” I sighed, putting my hand on my hip and pasting a look of impatience on my face.   
“Where are you off too now? Off to have more casual sex in Grace’s room?” he tapped his fingers on his bicep.   
“Of course we are,” I said casually, “What else would we be doing?”   
He didn’t seem taken aback by my response. That’s what actors were good at. Reacting, or not reacting at all. That annoyed me, because I always loved to see people not able to reply to my comebacks.   
“Did you break the bed in Callan’s room?” he snuffed.   
“It’s not even the first time that’s happened to me,” I shrugged at him. He didn’t really have anything to say to that, and I took pride in that. I felt satisfied. He gave me a smug smile, like he knew something.   
“Off you go then,” he let us into the elevator, “don’t be too loud.”   
We both stepped in and I winked at Alex before the doors closed. 

Half an hour later, we were down at a local café. It was a local business and there were old people having coffees and recent high school graduates catching up with each other, talking about their lives and all of the things they were doing, trying to outdo each other. I had thrown on a loose shirt and a high waisted skirt to combat the humidity. I had a butterscotch latte in front of me, skim milk. Coffees were stronger in Australia. Callan agreed with me.   
“So, how did you get into acting?” I asked, even though I already knew. I had stalked him when I was 16. I knew so much about him. He told me the story I already knew.   
“What about you?” he asked me. I pushed my cheek into my palm and rested there.   
“I always loved acting. Always, from when I was really, really little, and I started working with a theatre company when I was 15. Well, when I was about 16, I got dumped and I was really angry about it, so I decided that my revenge would be in the form of success. That I would make sure he wished he had held onto me. After a while, it stopped being about that. I knew that no matter what, if I wasn’t acting and I wasn’t successful, on the big screens, I wouldn’t be happy. I was meant to do this. So I just worked at it, got extra’s work, landed some small TV roles. The usual, and then somehow I managed to land Marina,” I shrugged. I always loved telling my story. I loved to think about how far I had come. I loved to remember the look on Adams face when I told everyone at our production break up that I was moving to LA because I scored this role. 

“That’s pretty amazing,” he said. I nodded.   
“I’m just lucky. We all are. You just have to get that role that is going to put you on the map. That’s what I’m hoping this one is going to be,” I took a sip of my latte and wiped my mouth of any residue, so I wasn’t talking to Callan with stuff all over my face. So hot.   
“Have you read that books?” he asked me. My eyes widened in a mystical way.   
“Of course I have! I loved these books so much. I was praying that they would make another movie after the first one. I just never imagined that I would be in it,” I held my hands on the table and smiled reminiscently. It was all a dream come true. My phone buzzed in my pocket.   
“It’s Juliet,” I said. He nodded and I answered it, but put it on loudspeaker. There weren’t many people around.   
The phone sat in the middle of the table and I was leant towards it, but Callan was relaxed in his chair, not looking like he was planning on talking. 

“Hey,” I said, “You’re on loudspeaker.” It was a simple warning: Don’t you dare say anything about when I was sixteen or I’ll kill you.   
“You’re such a slut,” Juliet said through the phone. Callan seemed taken aback by it but it was something I was used to. That’s how we communicated. ‘Hey whore’ and ‘You’re a slut’ were common.   
“I know,” I said, “What’s new?” Callan raised an eyebrow at me and I smirked. There was nothing more perfect than Juliet and mine’s relationship.   
“I’ll tell you what’s new,” I got a text from her at that moment. It was a link to an article by Sugarscape titled ‘Pre-filming party for The Power of Six leads to snog session between Callan Mcauliffe and… who?’.   
“Oh shit,” I wasn’t really sure if I was scared, or kind of amused. I’d always known that I’d be a part of a million trillion scandals, but I wasn’t even famous yet.   
“Keep reading,” Juliet said, sounding tickled. I looked at Callan and then turned back to my phone and began reading. 

“The hot shot cast of ‘The Power of Six’, the long awaited sequel to ‘I am Number Four’, headed out on the town last night and to say the least, got completely wasted. Especially one (underage) cast member, Callan Mcauliffe, who has been pictured snogging a mysterious girl,” I froze and looked up at him. He looked positively shocked. Pictured? I looked at the picture and sure enough, it was blurry and the lights made it look artificial. It had been taken by a crappy phone but you could clearly see us both up on stage. We were both pretty unrecognizable, but whoever had taken and submitted the photo had obviously known it was Callan. But, as I said, I wasn’t famous yet. They didn’t know it was me. I showed him the picture and I could see the same thoughts running through his mind.  
“Keep reading,” Callan urged me.   
“Juicy. Our source states that they didn’t recognise Callan’s pash partner, but said that she seemed to be into it as well. There is speculation as to whether this is young actress and starlet, Grace Norris, who is to be starring alongside Callan in the film. Are we seeing a love story blossom? Or has this relationship been under the radar? Whichever it is, we wish we were the mystery girl with the hot Aussie bloke on our arm.”   
“Do you see why you’re a whore now?” Juliet chimed when I had finished.   
“Hey, you don’t even know that that’s me,” I grumbled in outrage.   
“Grace, how long have we known each other,” she said calmly.   
“That is irrelevant,” I murmured.   
“12 years. Do you think I don’t know what you look like? We live together! I know that’s your dress!” she said, her voice slowly rising to a crescendo.   
“I hate you,” I muttered.   
“Well you did make out with Callan, so I’m pretty fucking proud of you. It’s not like we haven’t been talking about doing that since-“ I scooped up the phone and fumbled with buttons until I turned off loudspeaker. I could feel myself blushing, “we were 16. What are you doing? Why are you moving the phone?”   
“Oh you have to go? Okay, I’ll see you in a few weeks,” I said.   
“What are you talking about?” she asked me, “I’m not going anywhere. Where is Callan? Are you off to have sex with him now?” she always giggled when she said sex.   
“Bye Juliet!” I said over enthusiastically.   
“Fuck you,” she said before I clicked end. Our relationship was the best.


End file.
